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THE 

MOST BEAUTIFUL THING 
IN THE WORLD 

BY 

FLETCHER HARPER SWIFT 

With Illustrations by 

GEORGE ALFRED WILLIAMS 



AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY 
PARK AVENUE AND FORTIETH STREET 
NEW YORK 


PZ^ 
. s 


Copyright, 190.5 and 1911, by 
AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY 


DEC 16 1914 

©CI.A387959 




ILLUSTRATIONS 

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sky .... 81 / 

‘‘Since thou commandest me, O King” . . . 16 

“Show me some beautiful landscape” . . .32*^ 

“What is the most beautiful thing in the 

world?” . Ai ..j . 40 ^ 




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FOREWORD 


I am most happy to stand at the threshold 
of this book and bid the reader enter. The 
house the author has built for us is not a 
large one, but, as the passerby may safely 
judge from its name and its exterior appear- 
ance, it is a beautiful one — and hospitable 
withal. Children and young people espe- 
cially will feel at home in it, but if their 
elders should happen to enter, they will not 
feel any sense of strangeness, for there is 
much of the child and the youth in all of us, 
whatever our years. 

The author. Dr. Fletcher Harper Swift, 
who is Professor of the History and Philos- 
ophy of Education in the University of Minne- 
sota, is a master of the gift of teaching by 
parable. I can think of but two other recent 
literary creations which compare with this in 
conveying the lesson that both beauty and hap- 


FOREWORD 


piness inhere in moral values. (One of these, 
“The Happy Prince,” is the work of a modern 
English poet and dramatist, and the other, 
“The Blue Flower,” came from the graceful 
pen of one of America’s most delightful story 
writers.) Into such chambers of imagery we 
can not pass without approaching “that stage 
in which the beauty of holiness and the holi- 
ness of beauty burn as one fire, shine as one 
light.” The door is open. Enter, gentle 
reader, “pilgrim of the Infinite!” 

Charles Carroll Albertson. 


Brooklyn, New York. 


THE 

MOST BEAUTIFUL THING 
IN THE WORLD 


W HAT is the most beautiful thing 
in the world? What would the 
wisest man in the world say? Can 
there be anything more beautiful than the 
King’s palace? These are some of the ques- 
tions that the people who lived within the King- 
dom of Rerum used to ask. No matter how 
much they wondered what the most beautiful 
thing in the world was, no one dared ask when 
inside the palace of King Timen, or when with 
any one who might tell the King that the ques- 
tion had been asked. Why they did not dare, 
every one in all the land of Rerum knew, and 
every one else can find out if they will open the 
old chronicles which contain the proclamations 
of King Timen, 


7 


8 


THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING 


When King Timen was a very young prince, 
he became famous far and wide for his love of 
whatever was beautiful. He would spend 
hours on the shore of the quiet lake in front of 
his father’s palace, merely gazing at the water, 
the mountains, and the sky. At the sight of 
beautiful flowers he was seen to burst into tears 
for no other reason than because they were so 
beautiful. Indeed, there was nothing beauti- 
ful which he ever heard of that he did not at 
once wish to see and to possess. When he be- 
came king, this desire grew to such an extent 
that none of the things he had satisfied him; 
even the magnificent palace in which his father 
and grandfather had reigned, to his eyes be- 
came more and more dull and ugly, until he 
actually loathed it. So one day he called his 
counselors around him, and after telling them 
how very unhappy he was, he cried out: “My 
lords, I am going to build me a palace which 
shall be, and which all men everywhere shall 
declare to be, the most beautiful thing in the 
world. But I am a poor king. The kingdom 





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IN THE WORLD 


9 


of Rerum is small and my royal treasury is 
small. Therefore call together my armies; 
take what money we have, hire soldiers, con- 
quer the kingdoms next to mine, bring me their 
gold and wealth in order that I may be able to 
build this palace.” 

The King’s orders were obeyed. His soldiers 
were gathered together, and led out to subdue 
the surrounding peoples. Marvelous success 
attended them. In a few years King Timen 
was master of all the world of which any one 
knew in those days. His generals brought to 
him the gold and jewels of the conquered kings. 
The rulers and their subjects were either put 
to death or compelled to work as slaves in 
building the palace which was to be the most 
beautiful thing in the world, and which was al- 
ready spoken of as “The Palace Beautiful.” 

The King was very proud of his palace, and 
he had reason to be. It would take many 
.books to describe the wonderful groves that en- 
closed it and the beautiful views that could be 
seen from every window. Wherever one went 


10 THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING 


and wherever one looked, it seemed as if the 
last thing he beheld was more beautiful than 
anything he had seen before. Floors of yel- 
low gold and white ivory, ceilings of purple 
amethyst and pearls, supported by marble 
columns between which swung chains of dia- 
monds and opals; surely no one could dream 
of a more beautiful place. 

When the Palace Beautiful was finished, the 
King held a great feast to celebrate its com- 
pletion. He ordered all his subjects far and 
wide to come and pass before his throne and 
say, “O Noble King, I bless thee that thou hast 
built this marvelous palace, and hast permitted 
mine eyes to behold it. I have gazed upon 
many things in earth and heaven, O King, but 
surely this palace of thine is the most beauti- 
ful thing in the world.” This was a very long 
speech, and I do not suppose the littlest chil- 
dren were compelled to learn it ; but this I do 
know, that every one who was old enough to 
learn it, was obliged to; and if any one re- 
fused to say it, he was to be put to death or 


IN THE WORLD 


11 


placed in a dungeon for the rest of his life. 

There was only one man in the whole realm 
of whom King Timen was afraid. This was 
his chief magician. King Timen’s chief 
magician was not like most magicians. He, 
of course, could do the mysterious things that 
king’s magicians can always do ; he could 
change sand into bread or money ; he could pass 
through walls, and walk on the air, or disap- 
pear in a cloud of smoke. All this he could 
do and much beside, like other magicians, but 
he was different from other magicians, for he 
was a very good man, and would never use his 
power to injure others, not even when the King 
wished it. Nobody knew how old he was nor 
where he came from, but every one knew that 
he was the oldest and wisest man in the king- 
dom of Rerum. 

It is not to be wondered at that the King 
should fear such a wise and powerful man, 
and that he should be especially anxious to 
know whether or not he would say that the 
Palace Beautiful was the most beautiful thing 


THE MOST BEAUTIEUL THING 


in the world; for the magician, as every one 
said, knew everything in the world, and always 
spoke the truth. 

If the people of Rerum thought the magician 
would be eager to see the palace, they were mis- 
taken. As soon as the King began building 
it, the magician shut himself up in his tower 
with his books and his seven black owls. Here 
he remained, refusing to see any one. How- 
ever, when the day of the feast arrived the King 
sent for him and commanded him to go into 
every room and then return to the throne-room 
and repeat the speech which every one else had 
repeated. 

The magician came down from his tower in 
his long black robe. His white beard swept 
the golden palace floors as he walked, and his 
favorite black owl sat on his shoulder. He 
went into every room and looked at everything 
long and carefully. It seemed as if he did not 
merely look at the things he saw ; he seemed to 
look through them. Yet it was noticed by 
some of those present that he gazed far more 


IN THE WORLD 


15 


intently into the faces of the King’s subjects 
and slaves than he did upon the fountains 
sparkling in basins of onyx, or upon the carv- 
ings on the walls, or upon all the other marvel- 
ous and beautiful things. 

When at last he had seen all, he told the 
soldiers to lead him to the King. As he en- 
tered the room he beheld the King wrapped in 
his ermine robe, seated on a throne of solid 
ruby, and wearing a crown whose splendor well 
nigh outshone the sun. On either side of the 
throne stood deep lines of soldiers. Soft 
fragrance filled the room. Not a sound could 
be heard except the low voice of one who was 
kneeling at the throne. There was a great pro- 
cession passing before the throne, and each one 
as he reached it knelt, and repeated the words 
he had been taught to say: ‘‘O Noble King, 
I bless thee that thou hast built this marvelous 
palace, and hast permitted mine eyes to behold 
it. I have gazed upon many things in earth 
and heaven, O King, but surely this palace of 
thine is the most beautiful thing in the world.” 


14^ THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING 


One by one they knelt and arose, and each 
one as he passed on brought the magician, who 
was the last in the procession, a step nearer the 
throne. When the magician was about to 
kneel a trumpet sounded. The room filled 
with people. Every one was anxious to see the 
strange old man who had shut himself up in 
the tower, and to hear him speak. No one, 
however, expected he would say anything dif- 
ferent from what all the others had said, be- 
cause every one, as well as the magician, knew 
just what to say. Besides there was nothing 
else any one could say, for surely nothing in 
the world could be more beautiful than the 
Palace Beautiful, and that was all any one was 
asked or expected to say. 

Although every one knew just what the 
magician would say, yet the room was so 
silent when he knelt one could almost hear his 
heart beat. As he prostrated himself before 
the throne he caught his long white beard in his 
hands, and when he arose he looked to some of 
the people like a statue in a waterfall, for he 


IN THE WORLD 


15 


had wrapped his beard about his head and face 
in such a way that it covered him completely. 
This was the sign that he refused to speak. 
The King’s face turned white, and flushed red 
with anger. His rage was so great that at 
first he could not speak. He rose from his 
throne trembling from head to foot. The peo- 
ple shrank toward the doors. The soldiers 
looked down at the floor, dreading to hear what 
the King would say. 

At last King Timen spoke, and for once he 
seemed to forget that he was afraid of the 
magician and his power. In quick, cutting 
tones that sounded like the cracking of a whip 
he said: “Magician, for many years have I 
and my family cared for thee. For many 
years hast thou eaten our bread, drunk our 
wine, and lived in our palaces. Seven years 
ago thou didst leave our royal presence and 
didst shut thyself up in a tower of darkness. 
Seven years have I overlooked thine indiffer- 
ence to me. But to-day I have asked thee to 
declare thine admiration for a palace I have 


16 THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING 


been long in building. Many a battlefield is 
stained with the blood of generals who died 
that I and my people might build the Palace 
Beautiful. I have given wealth, years, and 
friends to build it; but thou who art richest in 
all things hast given nothing, and now, here in 
the presence of my people, thou refusest to 
utter one word of praise. Dost thou think 
that I will allow thee longer thus to defy me 
and the work of my hand? By my life and 
kingdom, I order thee to speak!’’ 

Slowly the magician uncovered his face. 
Then gazing calmly at the furious King, he 
said, “O King, thy father I knew, and thy 
father’s father I knew and his father I knew. 
I have, it is true, lived in their palaces, drunken 
their wine, and eaten at their board. Thou 
art different from them all. Some of them 
gloried in wealth; others gloried in war; thy 
great passion is for the beautiful. Thou hast 
built thyself a palace, O King. Thou hast 
named it the Palace Beautiful. Thou hast 
named it well, for it is a beautiful palace.’’ 



Since thou commandest me, O King.” (p. 17) 






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IN THE WORLD 


17 


The magician ceased speaking and bowed low. 
The black owl, still perched on his shoulder, 
nodded its head very slowly, as if in approval. 

After a pause the King said: “Magician, 
thou hast said my palace is beautiful. Is not 
this scant praise for such a monument of won- 
der as the Palace Beautiful? Thou art the 
only one of all my subjects who has hesitated 
to declare it to be the most beautiful thing in 
the world. Knowest thou of anything more 
beautiful?” 

At these words an expression of deep trouble 
and sadness overspread the kind face of the 
old man. Leaning toward the King, he said, 
“Have mercy, my Lord. I crave thy pardon, 
but do not compel me to answer that question.” 

The countenance of the King grew more 
stern and angry than before: “Unless thou 
answerest it, thou shalt be driven from my 
presence forever.” 

There was a moment of painful silence, then 
the magician spoke again: “Since thou com- 
mandest me, O King, I must reply. There is 


18 THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING 


something in the world more beautiful than 
thy palace.” 

At these words the face of the King un- 
derwent a marvelous change. Astonishment, 
followed by pain, which ended in a wild, fren- 
zied longing, spread over his features. To 
himself he murmured: “Something more 
beautiful than my palace! Ah, I knew there 
must be,” and then to the magician he said: 
“Thou shalt bring it to me. It shall be mine.” 

“I cannot bring it to thee.” 

“That is to say, thou wilt not,” cried the 
King. “Soldiers, seize the magician! Take 
from him his wand lest he use his magic and 
escape; place him in the dungeon; let him be 
beaten daily with two hundred stripes until he 
consents to procure for me what he thinks is 
the most beautiful thing in the world.” 

The soldiers feared to lay hold of the magi- 
cian, but nevertheless approached him. As 
they drew near, the old man waved his wand. 
There was a strange sound like the buzzing of 


IN THE WORLD 


19 


many bees ; a mist filled the hall ; the magician 
vanished. 

When the mist cleared away, the people 
looked at the King. He was pale and dis- 
pleasure still showed in his countenance, but he 
spoke in kind and courteous tones as he invited 
them to join in the feast which had long been 
waiting. The people gladly forgot the un- 
pleasant disturbance, and feasted and danced 
until break of day. Then they all went to 
their homes to talk over what they had seen in 
the Palace Beautiful, and the strange way the 
magician had acted, and how suddenly he had 
vanished. 

The day following the feast, and for many 
days after. King Timen wandered through 
his palace, gazing long and sorrowfully at 
everything he saw. He went from room to 
room, looking now at some wonderful jewel, 
now at some beautiful statue, here at a 
lovely vase, or there at a picture. He seemed 
to love most of all to stand at one of 


20 THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING 

the windows and look out upon a lake which 
lay between two dark mountains. Yet a 
deeper and deeper sadness seemed to come over 
him, for no matter how beautiful the object 
he looked upon, he would sigh deeply to him- 
self and say, “There is something else in this 
world more beautiful, but I shall never possess 
it.” 

One day he called his four most trustworthy 
generals to him. He commanded the first to 
go north, the second south, the third east, and 
the fourth west, and to search far and wide 
throughout the earth until they should find 
something more beautiful than the Palace 
Beautiful. 

After three years the generals returned and 
were summoned before the King. They came 
into his presence empty-handed. Bowing low, 
they said: “O King, we have searched east 
and west, north and south. We have been all 
over the earth, but we have found nothing as 
beautiful as thy palace. Be content, O King, 


IN THE WORLD 


for this palace of thine is the most beautiful 
thing in the world.” 

The King listened to his generals, but their 
words failed to cheer him. Indeed, they made 
him more melancholy. He had had some 
hope, until they had spoken, now his last hope 
lay shattered, a broken goblet, incapable of 
holding longer even a drop of consolation. 
All alone he sat and wept, wept with longing 
to behold the most beautiful thing in the world. 
At midnight he cried out in despair; “O 
magician, where art thou? If thou wouldst 
only return and tell me what the most beauti- 
ful thing in the world is, I would give all I 
have, yea, even my life, to possess it.” 

No sooner had King Timen said these words 
than he felt a soft touch on his shoulder. Look- 
ing up, he saw the magician standing beside 
him. In a low voice the magician said; ‘T 
have seen thy tears, O King, and heard thy 
words.” 

“Magician, pity me/’ cried the King, ‘T 


22 THF, MOST BEAUTIFUL THING 

am a King, but I am the most unhappy man in 
all the world. Bring me the most beautiful 
thing in the world and restore peace to my soul 
and sleep to mine eyes.” 

‘‘The most beautiful thing in the world,” 
responded the magician, “is something I can- 
not bring to thee. It can be seen and felt, but 
cannot be handled. Nevertheless whoever is 
brave enough and desires it enough to give up 
everything else for it can possess it. If thou 
wishest to behold it, I can take thee where it 
may be seen.” 

“Is it far?” asked the King. 

“It is near,” answered the magician, “but 
thou must journey far before thou canst be- 
hold it.” 

“Wherever it is,” cried King Timen, “and 
no matter how long the journey, take me to see 
it, for I shall never be happy again till I be- 
hold it and strive to possess it.” 

The magician seated himself and the King 
on his long black cloak, and in a few moments 
the two were out of the palace, floating over 


IN THE WORLD 


23 


the tops of the forests, swifter than the wind. 

After several hours the King fell asleep. 
When he awoke he found himself in the most 
beautiful garden he had ever seen. As far as 
the eye could see there seemed to be nothing but 
acres and acres of most lovely flowers, bend- 
ing under the impulse of a soft breeze: White 
roses among tall purple lilies ; red roses climb- 
ing up and forming towers of fragrance, sway- 
ing lines and fragrant billows of blue, gold, 
and scarlet. Most wonderful of all to King 
Timen, none of the roses had thorns and, as 
they swayed in the breeze, they gave forth soft, 
sweet music like a thousand fairy harps played 
at twilight. Ere long the King heard the 
voices of children singing, and in a moment 
the garden thronged with them. They be- 
gan picking the flowers, and soon each one had 
his arms full. They were so happy and their 
faces were so beautiful, that as King Timen 
looked at them he could not tell which were 
the more beautiful, the children or the flowers. 
Turning to the magician, he said; ‘T under- 


24 THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING 


stand now why thou couldst not say my palace 
was the most beautiful thing in the world. 
This garden is even more beautiful than my 
palace. This must be the most beautiful thing 
in the world.” 

The magician made no reply, but led the 
King into an arbor and told him to be silent 
and watch. Forthwith the scene before them 
underwent a dark and fearful change. Out 
from behind a bank of flowers stole a hideous 
man with a whip in his hand. Behind him fol- 
lowed ten black slaves. Each carried a long 
chain and a whip made of rose-thorns. They 
caught the children and began binding them 
with the rose-thorn chains, beating them all the 
while with whips. Cries of pain and terror 
filled the air. King Timen struggled to go to 
the children, but found he could move neither 
hand nor foot. Thereupon he closed his eyes 
till the cries ceased. When he opened them 
the children were gone. Nothing was to be 
seen save a garden full of flowers, rarer and 


IN THE WORLD 


25 


more lovely than those blossoming there be- 
fore. 

“Where are the children?’’ asked the King. 

The magician pointed to the flowers. 

“What do you mean?” 

“They are flowers now. The garden be- 
longs to the monster. He entices the children 
hither, and changes them into flowers.” 

“What does he do with the flowers?” 

“Sells them to the rich and powerful.” 

“Take me out of this fearful place,” pleaded 
the King, and a moment later he found himself 
with the magician floating again high over the 
earth. King Timen was too sad to speak. He 
remained silent and thoughtful. It was the 
magician who spoke first: “That is an old, 
old garden.” 

“Whose garden is it?” asked the King. 

“It is the Garden of Toil and Might.” 

“And whose children are those?” 

“They are the foundlings of fortune.” 

King Timen saw that they were coming close 


26 THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING 


to the earth now, and were swiftly approach- 
ing a castle. Soon they were inside a great 
dining-hall. The lord of the palace and his 
guests sat feasting at the tables. Never in all 
his life had King Timen beheld such a beauti- 
ful palace, such a dining-hall, such dishes, such 
furniture, such a noble-looking gathering of 
people. The feast came to an end. The lord 
and his guests went out. The tables still 
groaned with food no one had been able to eat, 
and looked as if laden for a second repast. 
The doors opened and there crept in as many 
people as had gone out, but those who came in 
now were clothed in rags and their bones al- 
most stuck through their skin. Many were so 
weak with hunger they could scarcely get to 
the tables. They sat down and began to eat, 
gulping their food like starved dogs. Outside 
a storm was raging and a cold wind shook the 
windows, but all within betokened joy and 
abundance. 

“What a beautiful palace this is !” cried the 
King. “The palace itself is far more beauti- 


IN THE WORLD 


n 

ful than the Palace Beautiful. Moreover, 
every one here, rich and poor, is served like a 
King.’’ 

A long cruel laugh rang through the hall, 
and the lord of the palace came rushing in with 
servants and soldiers. They overturned the 
tables and with drawn swords drove the starv- 
ing multitude from the palace, hurling through 
the windows those too weak to flee. 

King Timen closed his eyes and shuddered. 
“Magician, take me from this place!” he cried, 
“I cannot endure it a moment longer. What 
I thought was the most beautiful thing in the 
world has again turned out to be most dread- 
ful.” 

The magician looked at the King. 

“Dost thou, indeed, desire to depart at once? 
Hast thou forgotten how beautiful the women 
are and how magnificent their gowns and their 
jewels?” 

“Nothing here can seem beautiful to me 
after what I have witnessed,” returned King 
Timen. 


^8 THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING 


“Then we will go,” said the magician, where- 
upon they left the palace, and were once more 
sailing through the air, sitting on the magic 
cloak. 

“What is the name of that palace?” asked the 
King. 

“That,” replied the magician, “is the Palace 
of Pride and Fear.” 

“Magician,” said the King, “do not show 
me any more gardens or palaces. Show me 
now some beautiful landscape, the most 
beautiful one in the world, and I will be con- 
tent.” 

The magician pointed down at the earth, and 
the King gave a cry of joy. Had any one 
ever dreamed of such beauty? Shoulder to 
shoulder across the western sky stretched a 
range of purple mountains. Far away to the 
east lay a golden sea dimpling in the light of 
the rising sun. Along the shore extended a 
city with harbor and ships. Through a narrow 
opening in the mountain wall leapt a silver 
river, bearing a message from three sister lakes 


IN THE WORLD 


that lay half hidden, caressing and cooling the 
storm-beaten faces of the hills. Nothing was 
lacking to make the scene perfect. The King, 
whose heart was sick with the dreadful sights 
he had beheld in garden and palace, viewed 
with relief the peaceful scene before him. 

“Ah, magician,” at length he cried, “not the 
palace nor royal garden which any king has 
made, but this land which I look upon, is the 
most beautiful thing in the world. Take me 
back to my kingdom now; I will gather my 
armies and come and win this country for my 
own.” 

The magician made no answer, but simply 
pointed, first east, then west. The King 
looked and saw two kings approaching rapidly 
with thousands of men. They came over the 
mountains, cutting their way where no path 
opened. King Timen had never seen such fine 
soldiers, and his heart beat fast with joy as 
he beheld them, young, strong, and brave, 
every one. 

“Are these kings friends or foes?” he asked. 


30 THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING 

“They are bitterest enemies/' replied the 
magician. 

“Are they going to fight?" 

“Yes." 

“Will many be killed?" 

“All but the two kings." 

“What! Are they willing to butcher thou- 
sands of husbands and fathers to gain posses- 
sion of a bit of country?" 

“Why didst thou ask me to take thee back 
to thy armies?" inquired the magician. 

The King was silent. The battle began. 
It continued for five days and nights. At the 
end of this time not a man in either army was 
alive except the two kings, who fought until 
finally they fainted from loss of blood. Every- 
where were piles of the bodies of the dead. 
Every rock and log was red with blood. The 
lake and all the streams that flowed out of it 
were as red as wine. 

King Timen had pleaded with the magician 
again and again to take him away. “Once I 
loved to watch a battle," he said, “but how can 


IN THE WORLD 


31 


I bear to behold this country steeped in blood 
and its lovely flowers crushed with the heaps 
of the dead? This land was the very thing 
my heart had sought, the most beautiful thing 
in the world, but alas, see what it has be- 
come !” 

But all his entreaties were in vain. Not un- 
til the battle was over would the magician take 
him away. As they were about to depart 
King Timen asked, “Ought we not to give as- 
sistance to the kings?” 

“They do not need us. They will soon re- 
cover and will live for hundreds of years, 
though the armies they lead are daily cut to 
pieces.” 

“What are their names?” 

“Their names,” answered the magician, with 
a strange sad smile, “are Mine and Thine.” 

“O magician,” cried the King, “this world 
would be a beautiful place if there were no 
people in it. God made it beautiful, but man 
makes the most beautiful places hideous. The 
most beautiful thing in the world would be this 


S2 THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING 


earth without man. Tell me, is there no way 
to get this?” 

“Thou hast spoken wisely, O King. It is in- 
deed man who makes all the lovely places hide- 
ous. I have shown thee the world as it is, and 
the most marvelous places in it as they are. 
What thou longest to see is the world as it 
was. Wave this wand three times and thou 
shalt behold the earth as God first made it, 
without man. 

The King waved the wand three times. A 
fine dust filled the air, blown along by the wind. 
The magician pointed to it and said, “There 
are now no people in the world.” 

The King felt relieved at once. The sor- 
row which had hung over him like a cloud van- 
ished; he could not keep from singing. He 
gazed down at the earth. How calm and beau- 
tiful it was ! Everywhere he looked he beheld 
nothing but beauty and happiness — green 
waterfalls, wide rivers, snowcapped mountains, 
yellow fields of golden grain, brilliant plains 
of palms and red tropical flowers. Birds sang 



“Show me some beautiful landscape.’^ (P-28) 








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IN THE WORLD 


S5 

everywhere. The animals in the forest wan- 
dered at will. Man had vanished from the 
earth, fear and oppression were gone. 

“Flowers, birds, sunshine,” cried King 
Timen. “Nothing could be more beautiful 
than this. This is the lost paradise!” 

On and on they travelled. At last they had 
seen everything and were on a second journey 
around the earth. The King was sitting on 
the magic cloak, which in their travel floated, 
spread out like a cloud, when all at once he dis- 
covered that the magician was gone. He 
called and called, but no answer came. At 
first he was frightened. Then he began to be 
very lonely. At last he realized that he was 
the only human being left in all the world. A 
w^eek passed, then a second, and then a third. 
At the end of this time King Timen was so 
lonely that he tried to make friends with a 
grasshopper, which somehow or other had got 
on to the cloak. From very loneliness he 
would talk to the little fellow, just as if he 
were a real person, and the grasshopper would 


34- THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING 


jump about and spread his wings in a very 
friendly fashion. 

It was toward the close of a long dreary day 
that the King said to the grasshopper: “My 
little friend, unless the magician comes back be- 
fore night, I shall surely jump into the sea. I 
thought this was a dreadful world when I saw 
how the most beautiful places in it were spoiled 
by the cruel and selfish people who live in them. 
I thought all would be settled if we could only 
get rid of the people, and so I waved the 
wand.” 

Here the grasshopper raised his black, shiny 
wings three times, exactly as if he understood. 

King Timen continued: “But this earth 
without people is far more horrible than it was 
before. I can endure it no longer. I wonder, 
if I should wave the wand again, if it would 
bring the people back?” 

The grasshopper looked very knowing, and 
spread out his wings, as if he approved the 
idea. 

“It will do no harm to try,” said the King, 


IN THE WORLD 


35 


whereupon he waved the wand. Immediately 
a fine dust filled the air and enveloped the 
earth. In it King Timen saw the forms of 
men, women, and children taking shape and 
floating down to the earth. In a few moments 
the world was full of people. Through the 
gray twilight bright candles beamed out of win- 
dows which had been dark for so many, many 
nights. Once more King Timen saw mothers 
in the doorways with their babes in their arms. 
Once more he heard the church bells which had 
been silent so long, when there was no one to 
ring them. Yet sweeter to his ears than the 
sound of bells came the voices of children sing- 
ing songs and saying their evening prayers. 
Overcome with joy at the sight he could do 
nothing but say, “O what a beautiful world! 
O what a beautiful world !” Yet even while he 
was saying these words he saw a man beating a 
horse in the street, and some boys torturing a 
dog; and, as the cloak continued to descend, 
he heard so many cruel words and saw so many 
unkind and unhappy faces that he could but 


36 THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING 


think again that the most lovely places in the 
world are spoiled by the people who live in 
them. Indeed, he began to wonder whether he 
would not have acted more wisely if he had not 
brought the people back, for he could see the 
armies of Mine and Thine marching down from 
the mountains, and, nearer, the children going 
into the Garden of Toil and Might, and far 
away rose the towers of the Palace of Pride 
and Fear. Next he wondered what had be- 
come of the magician, and said aloud : 

“I have been on a long journey to find the 
most beautiful thing in the world. The magi- 
cian said I should know it when I saw it, but 
so far, alas, I have seen nothing that I want!” 

How it happened King Timen did not know, 
but before he had finished these words he found 
himself once more in his own palace. He 
looked around, hardly knowing whether or not 
he was glad to be back. The palace was filled 
with peoj)le, yet no one seemed to notice him. 
While pondering over this, he chanced to pass 
in front of a great mirror; He paused in as- 


IN THE WORLD 


37 


tonishment. Could that be his own reflection 
he beheld in the glass ! The night he had left 
the palace his hair had been streaked with gray ; 
now it was bright gold. During his absence 
he seemed to have grown twenty years younger. 
His cheeks were ruddy with youth; his face 
was the face of a boy. This was not all; he 
was dressed like those who were waiting to 
serve the tables. Before he had recovered 
from his amazement he saw the servants hasten- 
ing towards the dining hall. King Timen 
knew he must go, yet stood motionless. An 
officer who had been watching him walked up 
to him and asked how long he expected to keep 
the lords and ladies waiting. 

King Timen had never suffered as much in 
all his life as he did in the next few hours. Of 
course, he did not know what to do or how to 
do it. He dropped costly dishes and spilled 
wine on the guests. Ko one had any sympathy 
for him. He was called blockhead and cuffed. 
Finally, in some way he offended a great noble, 
and was dragged to the prison^ where he was 


38 THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING 


beaten until he could not rise from the floor, 
and then tossed, bleeding and moaning, into a 
dark and loathsome cell. Here he lay, too 
weak and sick to think of anything. It seemed 
as if his whole body were one great sore. After 
a time he fainted, or became half unconscious 
from weakness and misery. How long he lay 
thus he did not know. He knew nothing un- 
til at length he heard some one speaking beside 
him. He had never heard such a beautiful 
voice. At first he did not open his eyes for 
fear he might be dreaming, and that if he 
awoke, the voice would cease. A moment later 
the King felt a hand bathing his head with cool 
water and washing his wounds. 

“Alas, poor youth, thine eyes are badly 
hurt,” said the voice. “I must bandage them, 
or thou wilt go blind.” 

The King said nothing, but he wondered who 
it could be that cared whether or not he went 
blind. Perhaps it was because he was weak; 
perhaps it was because he was lonely; but, 
whatever the reason, tears stole out of King 


IN THE WORLD 


39 


Timen’s eyes and fell on the floor of the dun- 
geon cell. 

“I must not leave thee here. The poisonous 
gases which escape from these walls will kill 
thee,” said the voice. “This cell is one King 
Timen built in which to confine any one he 
wished to put to death, but did not dare to kill 
outright. Besides, there is no bed here, not 
even a bundle of straw.” 

The voice ceased. Thereupon King Timen 
felt two strong arms placed firmly but tenderly 
about him and he was carried for some distance 
and then laid on a bed. Here he remained, his 
new friend caring for him day after day. Day 
after day the same gentle hands brought him 
food and dressed his wounds. King Timen 
learned to love those ministering hands. 
Sometimes he would raise them to his lips and 
kiss them. 

One day he asked: “When can I take this 
bandage from mine eyes?” 

“After a few days,” answered his friend. 
“Aj’t thou growing weary of the dark?” 


40 THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING 

“Not so weary of the dark as weary with 
waiting to see thy face.” 

“Why art thou anxious to see my face?” 

“Because I know it will be the most beautiful 
face I have ever seen.” 

“Thou wilt be disappointed if thou expectest 
my face to be beautiful. Soon after they 
brought me here I fell victim to a dreadful 
disease. My face and both my hands are cov- 
ered with hideous scars.” 

“If thy face does not prove to be beautiful, 
I know it will be the kindest I have ever seen, 
and that is better.” 

As the day waned King Timen grew so im- 
patient to see his friend that he decided to risk 
removing the bandage from his eyes. He 
waited until he heard the jailer’s step upon the 
dungeon stairs. At this sound, his friend al- 
ways left him to receive the evening meal. The 
King took off the bandage in time to see the 
door open and the jailer enter carrying a tray. 
His friend spoke kindly to the jailer, who 
smiled in return, placed the viands on the table. 



“What is the most beautiful thing 
in the world?’’ (p. 42) 




IN THE WORLD 


41 


and departed. The King’s friend began divid- 
ing the food into two portions ; one he reserved 
for the King, the other he passed through the 
bars into the passage way. Then he slipped 
through himself and proceeded from cell to cell 
giving the inmates wine, fruit, and other food. 
This done he returned to King Timen explain- 
ing he had been taking food to the other pris- 
oners. 

“Do not all have the same food?” asked the 
King. 

“No; most of them receive only black bread 
and water.” 

“Thou receivest other things?” 

“Yes, I am a royal prisoner.” 

“And thou sharest with the others what they 
bring thee?” 

King Timen did not ask any more questions. 
He did not know just what to say. When 
night came he could not sleep. He rose and 
stole to the window and looked out upon the 
sea. The moon was shining; a ray of light 
made its way into the cell and fell on the face 


42 THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING 

of King Timen’s friend, who was asleep on the 
stone floor. The King looked first at the 
moonlight, and then at the face on which it 
shone. 

“What is the most beautiful thing in the 
world?” It was the voice of the magician. 
The King was startled by the sound, but the 
magician w^as so calm and quiet that King 
Timen’s fears vanished, yet he could not speak. 

Again the magician asked, “What is the most 
beautiful thing in the world?” 

King Timen turned and pointed to his 
friend, who lay stretched in sleep on the cold 
hard floor. 

“What dost thou mean?” asked the magi- 
cian. 

“I mean,” said the King, “that a loving life, 
a life which is full of kind deeds and thoughts, 
the life which finds its greatest joy in giving up 
to others what is its own, the life which, amid 
its own sorrow and suffering, thinks of the suf- 
fering and sorrow of other lives — that is the 
most beautiful thing in the world. Magician, 


IN THE WORLD 


43 


once thou didst show me the most beautiful 
garden, the most magnificent palace, the most 
lovely landscape mine eyes had ever beheld. 
The beauty of each of these was destroyed by 
the unkindness and selfishness which filled it 
and ruled it. Then I asked thee, and thou 
didst show me, the earth without man, and 
though at first it seemed perfect, after a time 
I learned that the earth without man would be 
like a harp without strings. Here in this 
prison I have seen and felt and learned to know 
the most beautiful thing in the world.” 

“Dost thou understand now why I said I 
could not procure it for thee, but that any man 
who was brave enough and desired it enough 
to give up everything else for it, might possess 
it?” 

“Yes,” answered King Timen, “I under- 
stand.” 

It was a strange scene: the great dark cell, 
dimly lit by the moonlight; the sleeper on the 
floor; the magician with his black owl on his 
shoulder, and his long white beard sweeping to 


U THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING 

his feet. The King and the magician bent over 
the sleeper. The King’s hands were clasped as 
if in prayer. Thus they stood long and silent 
gazing into the sleeper’s face, which seemed to 
grow more and more beautiful each moment. 
A cloud covered the moon. Perhaps it was 
only fancy, but it seemed as if a light, like the 
light from a pure and precious stone, stole out 
from the sleeper’s face and lit up the darkness. 
King Timen knelt beside the sleeper and lifted 
him gently from the floor to the bed, and then 
lay down himself on the cold hard stones, fall- 
ing asleep full of the peace and the joy which 
came to him because he had found, and now had 
begun to possess, the most beautiful thing in 
the world. 

The next morning when the King awoke, he 
was lying, not on the stone floor of the dungeon, 
but at the foot of his throne in the Palace Beau- 
tiful. Tiis kingly robes were creased and 
damp, as if he had travelled in them a long dis- 
tance. His hair was matted. Perhaps he had 
tangled it with his hands while he slept, per- 


IN THE WORLD 


45 


haps it had been many days since it was 
combed. No one could say. 

King Timen arose, ascended his throne, 
called his court about him, and proceeded to 
relate his adventures. Probably some who 
listened wondered whether his journey was not 
all a dream. I see no reason for thinking it 
was. Certainly the old chronicles of Rerum 
Land do not record it as such. If there were 
any who doubted it in King Timen’s day, they 
had only to be told how strangely the King dis- 
appeared one night, and how he was found a 
month later in the early morning asleep at the 
foot of his throne. 

There was something else, however, which, 
every one admitted, proved beyond a doubt 
that King Timen’s adventures were not merely 
a dream. He laid aside his magnificent robes, 
and donned a simple suit of black. He no 
longer spent his time planning how to get 
things for himself. The hours he had once 
been accustomed to spend in feasting, or 
dreaming, he now passed in going from one 


46 THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING 


part of his realm to another. No life was too 
humble to interest him; no cottage too lowly 
for him to enter. In this way he learned to 
know the needs of his people. He was so 
gentle in his manner as he travelled from vil- 
lage to village, that many who met him failed 
to recognize in him the proud King Timen of 
long ago. Often as he rode along he would 
dismount from his horse to place on it some 
worn traveller or weary child, and as he walked 
alongside he would tell them the story of the 
most beautiful thing in the world. Every one 
who heard his story loved it, and when they 
reached home would talk about the strange 
man, and relate the story he had told them. 
Year by year the story spread, and more and 
more people began to understand it and believe 
it. Indeed it won such great renown that when 
King Timen was old, and his hair grown white, 
he became known throughout the world as the 
King Beautiful and Rerum Land as the Land 
Beautiful, and no one seemed to remember they 
had ever had any other names. 


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